Nightmares Are Real
by CHAILYN
Summary: A Wee!Chester Fic. Set during the Pre-teen/Teenage years. Sam and Dean have to face the biggest nightmare of their lives, when their family is threatened. Rated T for future material.
1. Chapter 1

**Nightmares Are Real**

**-1-**

--

_Note: Wow, so this is my first fic back in a long time…I've been crazy swamped and hopefully I haven't forgotten how to write fanfic…*shudders* scary thought. This one's been a work in progress for a long time, and I hope you all enjoy it. Lots more of fics to come…hopefully the semester doesn't get in the way of my writing plans…and remember folks, reviews are (almost) as good as Winchester love._

_OH! Please don't sue. I don't own Supernatural. EK's got the edge on that market, damn him._

_--_

"DEAN!" Sam banged his fist on the bathroom door. "Dean! You've been in there for an hour-You're going to be late for school!"

More importantly, his brother was going to make _him _late for school. This would be the eighth sixth grade he'd gone to this year, and things were just starting to get good. The last thing he wanted was a detention for being late because his brother was standing around the bathroom trying to make himself look pretty.

"Oh well." Dean laughed through the door, after all what was one more detention that he wouldn't be attending anyways? Either they'd be gone before the school could enforce it, or they'd give him a few days of suspension. "No big loss, Sammy-kins."

Sam groaned and banged on the door. "Dean! Dad told you that if you missed any more school you'd be grounded from hunting for a month."

Okay, Dean thought, Sammy was right on that front. He tugged the bathroom door open, and looked down on his pint sized brother.

"And who," Dean asked pointedly, "Would be opening their big mouth and telling dad?"

"If I'm so much as a second late for class…" Sam tried narrowing his eyes threateningly, but it hurt too much. He'd got his face cut on the last hunt and his eye was still a little swollen. "I'll tell dad that you're skipping school and about Kate O'Connell in the back seat of the Impala yesterday when you were supposed to be in your math class."

Dean looked at his brother wide mouthed, what was with his brother? He was like…the ultimate stalker. "You know what, Sammy?" Dean smirked at his brother, "That would almost be threatening if you didn't look like you lost a fight with a girl."

Sam picked up his backpack and tossed his brother the car keys. "You can skip class all you want, but I'm not a truant."

Dean sighed, catching the keys easily. Sometimes he wondered how he and Sam were even related.

"Fine, fine." Dean glanced at his brother, on second glance Sam's eye still wasn't looking so hot. "How's your eye doing, kid?"

Sam grumbled about being late. "Fine." He muttered. "I told everyone that I tripped in the garage."

Dean stifled a laugh, that really was Sam's favorite excuse. Maybe he liked it because it made him sound like a boy.

"Your backpack's by the stairs."

"Taking the day off." Dean grinned, after all, there was an upside to their life, he sure as hell wasn't going to miss out on a chance to skip school.

"Whatever." Sam shrugged, "Better tell your girlfriend that, she called while you were in the bathroom and said she'd meet you in the parking lot after third period."

In one swift move, Dean ducked down and grabbed his bag. "Little bitch." He told Sam good naturedly, "Could have told me that earlier."

And missed the fun that Dean would be in for as he sat in the parking lot only to be stood up by Kate 'I'm the Head Cheerleader' O'Connell who was going to be in New York with her parents all week? Nope, that was too good to pass up.

Besides, he owed Dean one.

--

"Sam Winchester?" Mrs. Aderholt looked over the sea of heads until her eyes met his, and hung up the phone. "Go down to the counselors, please."

The room became a chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' and 'Sam's in trouble'.

Sam really hoped that this didn't mean that Dean did something really stupid, like get himself expelled sort of stupid. Maybe he could give his brother some sort of alibi…maybe Dean was just being suspended for skipping so much school.

He really hoped that was it.

"Why?" Sam asked her, shoving his books into the bag, and tossing it over his shoulder. "Am I in trouble?"

"I'm sure you're not." Mrs. Alderholt held the door open. "Don't worry Sam, everything's fine."

He couldn't help a little bubble of worry for his dad and brother when he heard her say that. The last time that someone had told him everything was fine, his brother ended up in the hospital for nearly a week with hunting injuries.

Besides, grownups always never looked at you when they lied, and she hadn't looked him in the eyes since he left his desk.

Something was definitely not okay.

--

"Dean." Sam could almost breathe a sigh of relief when he saw his brother sprawled out in one of the chairs outside the guidance office.

It was funny, but he always felt safe with Dean. No matter what was wrong, as long as Dean was there, it was like nothing bad could happen-it was like he was untouchable. Dean was everything. His brother could be a dick, a lot, to a lot of people…he knew it was true. He knew about the bad things his brother did; stealing, and conning people, and he was pretty sure that the way his brother messed around with girls was wrong but…that wasn't Dean's fault. He blamed his dad for the bad stuff, if they had a normal life…if John hadn't taught Dean all that stuff his brother wouldn't ever do it.

Sam didn't begrudge his brother any of those things. Dean was the one who took care of him, and he had no right to judge his brother…after everything Dean did for him, he'd never do that. All he had to do was ask, and Dean would do anything for him.

"Sam?" Dean looked surprised to see him there.

Dean was surprised, he wasn't sure that Sam had ever made it to the counselor's office at any time over his school career. Ahh…first time for everything. They'd celebrate tonight.

"Dude, what'd you do?" He asked with the trademark smirk. "Look up a girl's skirt? Kick some ass?"

Sam frowned and shook his head. He loved his brother but Dean suffered from a severe lack of maturity.

Dean's eyes widened teasingly ignoring the disapproving look of the secretary at the desk, watching over them.

"Look up the teacher's skirt?" Dean whistled, "Way to go, Sammy!"

"Idiot." Sam muttered taking a seat to his brother. "What'd you do this time?"

Good question, Dean thought. He didn't have a damn idea of what he'd done wrong. Skip class? He'd actually been in class when his presence was requested…and totally great timing too, he was supposed to be taking a pop quiz on French verbs.

"Sam Winchester?" an attractive young woman with curly red hair popped out of the farthest office door.

Sam got up and looked at Dean. He'd never been called to the counselor before, he wondered how big of a baby he'd look like if he begged Dean to come along.

He didn't even need to ask. Dean jumped up.

"C'mon, kid, lets see what brand of trouble you're in." Dean grinned, looking up at the pretty redhead. God, he couldn't believe that his own brother was afraid of a counselor, these people couldn't do anything.

"Please take your seat, Dean." The red head said, and started looking less pretty to him by the second. "Mrs. Carter will be out in a moment to see you."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "But that's my brother."

Sam cursed himself silently, now he was going to get Dean in trouble. "Its okay Dean…I'll see you after."

Dean sat back down begrudgingly. "Fine."

He watched Sam walk down the short hall and the door close. Was it too much to hope she was a demon that he could stab just to make himself feel better?

Dean sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, and shooting the sour looking secretary a dirty look. He was only there a moment before a portly older woman stepped out of another door and looked down her nose at him.

"Dean Winchester?"

He nodded his head. Naturally, Sam would get the hot chick.

She waved her hand, "In my office please, dear."

--


	2. Chapter 2

**Nightmares Are Real**

**-2- **

**Note: Thanks to everyone who R&R'd the first chapter, or alerted it, or favorited it. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well! Oh! I would just like to point out it was only due to technical difficulties (aka ff dot net was being a bitch) that the update took so long. ty & enjoy!**

**--**

Dean felt outnumbered when he walked into the office to find two women, Mrs. Carter, and a mousy looking brunette with a manila folder open on her legs, and a pencil in her hand.

Not too bad actually, Dean though with a grin, surveying her. She had potential.

He must have been in more trouble then he'd expected if there was someone here to document things-more importantly, what awesome skills did he have that in only two weeks they'd already made a big 'ol folder on him.

"Sit down, Dean." Mrs. Carter gestured to the chair next to her desk. "How are you doing today?"

Dean shrugged. "Fine. Wondering why I was called out of class, too, as a matter of fact."

"Of course you are." Mrs. Carter told him and passed a jar to him. It was filled with candy and suckers. "Would you like a sweet?"

Good god, who was this woman? Was he _five_? Dean checked it out, and wondered why the heck there was no chocolate. He totally could have gone for some peanut m&m's.

She pulled a sucker out herself, and set the jar at the edge of her desk. "These are great." She said in an offhandedly sort of way.

Ah, what the hell, why not. He liked a sucker as much as the next guy.

"Thanks." Dean grabbed one, tearing the wrapper off and popping it in his mouth. "So, what sort of trouble am I in? We talking suspension, detention…_expulsion_?" Dean could only hope that he was being accused of something expulsion worthy.

"You're not in trouble, Dean." The mousy brunette was talking now.

Dean wondered if she was running the show. If so, she needed to work on her authoritative voice. Had this woman been a teacher, she wouldn't even have been able to convince him to get off the top of the desk, never mind share his feelings. He had this one pegged as a psychologist, she had the annoying look of one.

"Thank you for coming, Dean." She set the board on her lap.

Right, cause he had an alternative choice of course. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, and ignored he sarcasm itching to roll off of his tongue.

"My name is Tina-Marie, Dean, and I was hoping to talk to you. Just talk."

"Uhh…" Dean felt a wave of discomfort pass over him, and even her stripper-esque name didn't improve the matter. "Why?"

--

Sam was scared. What had he done so bad that there were two adults here? Had he broken some school rule he didn't know about? Did someone find his knife and tell on him? His dad would kill him for getting caught. Dean would kill him for freaking out…number one rule for getting caught was to stay calm. Remember, he consoled himself, you're a Winchester, you're not afraid.

_And if in doubt, Sammy_, Dean's voice played through his head, _lie, you're smarter than them_.

He stifled the uncomfortable and out of place laugh that threatened to crawl into his throat. Dean always thought he was smarter than everyone else-except himself, of course.

The pretty redhead, whose name was Stacy, crouched down in front of him. It made him feel like a child. Personally, he thought it was a bit stupid of her…and felt a little degrading. He was twelve, she could talk to him like that. That was one thing he appreciated about his dad and brother, they didn't treat him like a stupid kid. They knew he was smarter than that.

"Sam, I don't want you to worry. You can trust me, okay, honey? I'm a social worker…and I thought we could have a nice talk."

His stomach jumped up into his throat. This was the third time he'd heard those words, and it wasn't any less scary. He wasn't stupid, he knew what a social worker was, what they did. They were the one sort of person he really was afraid of. They trumped every sort of demons.

They were the only threat that even Dean couldn't protect him from.

"I don't need to talk." Sam looked towards the door. He wanted Dean. "Can I go?"

Stacy shook her head. "I'm sorry, Sam, but we need to talk. Its very important." She moved from her crouch in front of him and settled in a chair. "We've tried to get a hold of your dad to talk to him…but he's been unavailable."

"He's working." Sam replied, feeling his insides tense up in a way that made it hard to breathe. "My dad has to go away for work a lot. My brother Dean looks after me when he has to…and Uncle Bobby stays with us usually."

Stacy nodded her head.

"Your dad goes away a lot, doesn't he?" She asked.

Sam nodded his head. "He works hard."

"And your big brother, he takes care of you?"

Uh…he'd just said that, _hadn't _he? He hated social workers. They were worse than all sorts of demons.

"Was Dean taking care of you when you got hurt?"

"No." Sam tried to be patient, and not scared. Losing your temper never helped with these people. "I was in the garage with Dean, we were working on his car. My dad was home…he's the one who took me to the ER."

Stacy nodded her head, and so did the silent woman behind her. Sam didn't like all this head nodding, it didn't seem to bode well.

"You have a lot of visits to the ER, don't you Sam?"

Sam felt his heart skip a beat. No. He wanted to lie, he wanted to tell them they had no idea what they were talking about. They didn't.

"I'm clumsy."

--

The anger trumped the nausea that he felt as the woman kept talking and talking.

Its for the best, _Dean_. You understand, of course, _Dean_. We're doing what's best for you and your brother, _Dean_.

They needed to stop saying his name. Why did they tack on his name after every statement, were they trying to convince him that they gave a shit…

They didn't.

They didn't have the slightest damn idea of what they were doing.

"I want to see my brother. _Now_." Dean demanded.

"Not yet." Mrs. Carter told him. "We're not finished here, Dean. We need to talk about what's going to happen next. You don't need to be scared."

"No." Dean hissed icily. Were they out of their minds? They were threatening to separate him and Sam. They were threatening to take them away for their dad. Their dad needed them. They needed their dad. "I'm done. You old bags don't know what the hell you're talking about. You think I'm a threat to my brother. You think I would actually hurt a hair on his head?"

They were accusing him of letting his brother get hurt. How could they even _dare_?

"No." Mrs. Carter's voice was soft and calm. "Of course not, Dean. But we have to do what is best for Sam, you want what's best for your brother, don't you?"

They didn't know, they didn't know a thing. They didn't know that he'd rip out his heart so his brother would feel an ounce of pain. They didn't know how scared Sam would be right now. He was a kid, a twelve year old kid. His brother needed him, goddamn it. Sam needed to know that he wouldn't let this happen. He wouldn't let these people tear them apart.

"There will need to be an intensive investigation, and we'll need to have a discussion with your father." Mrs. Carter told him. "We'll do our very best to keep you and Sam together, but until this time…"

Dean stopped listening, and jumped out of his chair and pulled the door open before he could be stopped.

"Sam!" He yelled out, rushing down the short hall before the women could catch up. He'd take them, he swore to god he would.

He pushed the door open, and saw his terrified brother, knees pulled close to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. What the hell were these people doing to him?

"Dean!" Sam jumped up, and felt like a scared little boy again. Again, it was like he was scared of the monster under the bed, but he didn't care how big of a baby he looked now. He threw his arms around his brother.

Dean hugged Sam, ignoring the gathering people around them, he dared them to try, he dared these people to try and separate them. All he needed was an excuse.

"Its okay, Sammy." Dean hugged his brother close. "Its okay, Sammy. Everything is going to be okay."

"Dean," Mrs. Carter said, "Please let go of Sam."

"No!" Sam cried. "Don't leave Dean. Don't leave me! I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone, Dean."

Sam clung to his brother. He was four again and he was scared. It was dark and there was something in the closet, but as soon as he started crying, Dean was there, crawling into bed with him so that he wasn't scared anymore.

He was too scared without Dean. It didn't matter if he was twelve years old and knew that nightmares were real. This wasn't a nightmare, this was death. What would happen if they were alone?

"Sam." Stacy's voice was kind, but firm. "You need to let go of Dean. Let your brother go, Sam."

"No!" Sam yelled. He'd throw a fit, he swore he would. "You can't take Dean away from me, you can't!"

"Don't make me call security." Mrs. Carter said quietly in Dean's ear. "If you care about your brother, Dean, walk away. It will only upset him more."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to fight the tears. This was happening, his very worst nightmare. He was being separated from his brother.

"Its okay, Sammy." Dean pushed the words past the hard lump in his throat. "Its all going to be okay. Dad will fix this as soon as he can, and its going to be okay. Call Uncle Bobby, he'll help, you know he'll do anything…" Dean had to stop, he couldn't cry now. He had to be strong for Sam. Sam needed that from him.

"Dean," Sam looked up at him with big, shining, tear filled eyes. "But Dean…stop them. Please, I need you. Don't leave me alone."

Dean's chest split in two. His heart broke. Sam was begging him…and there was nothing he could do.

"I'm not." Dean kissed the top of his brother's head. "I'm not leaving you alone, Sammy. Don't be scared, its all okay. I'll get it sorted out. You know dad won't let them do this."

He gave Sam one final hug before letting him go, and looked him in the eye.

"Trust me, Sammy?"

Sam nodded his head, pushing a stray tear out of his eye. He was afraid if he talked he'd burst into tears.

"Come on, Dean." Mrs. Carter gestured in the opposite direction and began to lead the way.

Dean turned around, and stalked out the door.

Five, four, three, two, one.

When he heard the click of the door falling into the lock, he let the tears fall, he let them really fall.

What was he going to do?

--


	3. Chapter 3

**Nightmares Are Real **

**-3-**

_Note: Thanks to all the lovely reviews from you all. To anyone I didn't get a chance to thank individually, I'm sorry....please know that its the reviews that inspire me to keep working when I'm bogged down with a ridiculous amount of school work. AND OMG! LESS THAN 24 HOURS UNTIL THE PREMIERE! _

_Oh...and if there is anyone out there who is interested in beta'ing for me...I'm desperately in need. My beta sorta left the fandom..._

_--_

It was worse than not feeling right. Sam knew enough to trust his instincts, and his instincts were telling him that something was seriously wrong-he knew enough to know that his so called new 'home' was not right. He could live with not right though, since when had he ever expected normalcy?

He gave up on normal a long time ago.

There was a lot more he refused to give up though. What he couldn't give up was his brother. In eleven years, he had never spent the night away from his brother. In eleven years he'd never so much as slept in a different room than Dean. Even at Uncle Bobby's where there were a dozen different rooms just begging to be slept in-he and Dean shared a room.

Now, here he was in a cramped, strange house with an old man who seemed to shrivel up into an ugly armchair the color of mold (at least, he just really hoped that was the color) with his eyes glued to the game show network and a woman who all but simpered with fake sympathy, but gave him the strange feeling that he had fallen into the cage of the metaphorical story book witch.

Like the Winchester he was, he tried to scan the kitchen hoping for some sort of rudimentary protection at the very least; Dean would never forgive him if something killed him because he was being irresponsible. After all, he always told Dean he could take care of himself, now was the time to prove it. He wondered if it changed anything that if the fact that he'd do anything now to have his brother hanging over him like a spider monkey would change all the times he'd told Dean to just leave him alone.

Silver was too much to ask for, he wasn't crazy enough to hold out for that but he figured that with maybe just a little luck-which by this point, he was pretty sure he was owed-he might find an iron shovel in the backyard and their had to be salt in the cupboards, right? After all, everyone used salt.

Wasn't that easy-naturally. He was a Winchester, wasn't he? Why would it be easy?

Before Stacy even handed him over, making him feel like an unwanted product no less, he realized that he was in a prison.

Fridge, cabinets, freezer-all padlocked.

"You're going to be very happy here, Sam." The embittered looking woman-she had told him to call her Esther-said. "All you need to remember is to follow the key to keeping the family happy-follow the rules, and be respectful."

Sam wondered if the respect went both ways. He stayed silent however, finding himself wistful for Stacy...he wondered how she didn't seem to find it even a little weird that these people locked up their food. She seemed to be waiting on him, and so he nodded his head.

"Michael." Esther sniped to a blonde boy passing by with his face to the floor.

Sam didn't blame him, he'd do anything he could to avoid her too if he was here long enough to deal with it. Micheal looked a couple years older than him...and Sam got the feeling he'd been here a long time.

"Show Samuel to his room, Micheal."

"Yes, Ma'am." Michael nodded his head at her.

"Sam." Sam corrected automatically. No one called him Sam, not even when they were angry at him. It was only Sam-except when it came to his dad and Dean, only they were allowed to call him Sammy.

He didn't know why he bothered, he figured it was a knee jerk reaction. As soon as she and the old man went to sleep, he was hightailing it out of here to the first pay phone.

"No dear." Esther's tone was tight and seemed to grate his ears. "There will be no vagabounds in my home. Here you will be called by you god-given, Christian name."

Sam just shrugged, like he cared? He was more concerned about Dean right now, than this woman and her god-given business. He really needed to see Dean. How was he supposed to know that his brother was okay? Dean needed to know that he was okay too.

Dean worried about him.

–

"No." Dean demanded, not caring much about how loud, or rude, or ignorant his tone was. "I want my phone back now."

Tina-Marie,his caseworker, looked at him disapprovingly and he felt a dangerous wave of hatred rise up in his chest. This bitch was tearing his life apart. She took Sam from him.

"That isn't allowed, Dean."

"Dean," He felt a small hand curve over his shoulder. Samantha, his foster parent. She was pretty, and blonde and so far...nice. He hated her on the principle of the matter. Another person who was keeping him away from his brother. "Its okay. We have a phone in your bedroom, its even a separate line. You can use it whenever."

"Behave." Tina-Marie ordered him. "Please, we'll be in touch, Samantha."

Apparentlythis woman had borrowed Mrs. Carter's backbone.

Dean could only seethe. He reminded himself that he didn't hit women. He didn't hit women.

Samantha picked up his backpack from the floor. "Can I get you anything to eat, Dean? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Dean shook his head, he needed to figure out where Sam was. He wasn't dumb enough to have any misconception that Tina-Marie would actually tell him. He could only hope they'd have been in touch with Bobby by now. Bobby would have to know.

"My husband's away." Samantha led him up a long staircase. "He has to go away for work a lot, so I'm afraid its just the two of us for now. Please don't think you're a bother, either. If there's anything I can do for you, Dean..."

Dean shut off the chatter and tried to focus. A moment of walking and listening to her nervous sounding chatter and they stopped in front of a door.

She pushed it open, and set his backpack down just inside the room. "I"m sure you want some time alone." Samantha pointed to the farthest corner of the room. "That's the phone, TV is in the big cabinet...we have a satellite-my husband is a football junkie, we have all the sport and movie channels. At the end of the hallway is the bathroom, the closet has everything you should need. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, please, Dean. And...when you're hungry just let me know. We can peruse the take out menus."

Samantha blushed and laughed and uncomfortable sort of titter. "I can't cook."

"I just want to sleep." Dean begged silently for her to just leave him alone.

"Oh. Of course. I'm sorry...I'm being a horrible...right. So rude of me." She smiled tentatively before closing the door.

Dean wanted to fall asleep and chalk it all up to the worst nightmare of his life. He wanted to turn over in bed and see Sam asleep in the bed next to him mumbling about algebraic equations and a girl named Amie. He wanted his brother and father instead of a private phone and HBO.

–

How the hell had only three hours passed since they tore his family apart. It felt like hour upon hour had dragged by since he last saw Sam curled up in the chair crying over their circumstances. He wanted to kill his dad, he knew that taking Sam on the hunt was a bad idea.

John needed to see that Sammy was still a frickin' kid, that hunt was not for him. Ghosts and werewolves were one thing, but demons? Sam was too damn young for demons. His fault though, he shoulda kept a closer eye on his brother like he'd said he would. His dad was right about that part-it was his fault for letting the damn thing get the upper hand on Sam.

Bobby's phone rang three times and it was only exacerbating Dean's temper to wait for the phone to be answered.

What the hell was that? He and Sam had been seized like property and he couldn't even get Bobby on the damn phone?

Bobby picked up on the third ring, and Dean's temper was on the edge of flaring.

His only momentary consolation was that separated of not, he was relatively sure that Sam was okay. If the biggest threat to his brother was being mothered to death by some lonely woman it crossed one of his biggest fears of human harm to his baby brother off of his list. Now all he needed to do was get his family back together.

"Bobby!" Dean snapped. "What took so long? What are you _doing_?"

Dean could only fume as he waited for a response, as he waited for Bobby to say he'd spoke to social services, sorted the mess out and that he and Sam would have to stay with him until John set thing back right.

"Dean." Bobby sighed, "Do you know how long ago they called me, kid? I've been trying to get the number for you boys but they wouldn't give me anything. You okay? How's Sam?"

Dean had to fight the urge to rip the phone out of the wall with frustration. "Sam's not with me! How the hell do you think I'm doing? They tore Sam away from me at school and shipped us off to different damn homes, Bobby. You gotta do something."

Bobby was silent for a moment, and Dean really hated that. He couldn't stand the damn silences.

"I need to know that Sam is okay, Bobby." Dean ran a hand through his short hair. "You gotta do something, you gotta get me out here. You-Talk to Sam. Make them-I need to know he's."

"You know I'm working on this, Dean." Bobby sounded exhausted, and Dean had no doubt he was...but this had to take precedence over everything. This was Sam they were talking about. "I've got a friend whose good with computers, he's gonna try to hack the information out. I'm driving out there now...I was in the middle of a hunt, but a guy I know is taking it over. I'll see what I can do."

"No!" Dean couldn't help the rise in his voice. This did not work. This needed to be fixed...where the hell was his father? "What about my dad? Have you talked to him."

"Tried, kid. John's out of range, you know how these cell phones are." Bobby cleared his throat. "But you're okay? What's these people like?"

"Fine. Just some young blonde woman...Bobby, you gotta gt me out of here."

"I know." Bobby paused, "But you need to do something, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah...anything. Just get me something-at least get me Sam's number."

"I'm going to do everything I can, but, Dean...you gotta play aln kid. For once in you life...try not to break the damn law. Do not run away, do not hurt anyone, do not be anything other than a normal teenage boy. Don't hide knives under your pillow..."

Dean wondered what the hell he was supposed to be? Let things eat him?

"Yeah." He replied dully. Like he could run away anyways? He didn't know where Sam was...and he sure as hell couldn't hack a computer. He was lucky he could type. "Sure."

"Call me back after five." Bobby told him. "And just...stay out of trouble."

"Yeah." Dean hung the phone up, dropping it into the cradle and went for his backpack.

From there, he pulled out the small pocket knife that he hid in the lining of the bag, and slipped it under the mattress. She didn't look like the cleaning type, he was sure it was fine there.

He looked around the room, packed with any amenity he could desire, and realized quickly he was in hell. If Bobby didn't do something fast, he was going to snap.


	4. Chapter 4

**Nightmares Are Real**

**-4-**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cheers EK._

_Note: Yay! My first update in ages, and just a heads up. I've got a poll on my profile right now about which of my old (and some very, very old) stories should be wrapped up for anyone who is interested in throwing in their two cents, and I just want to give a big thank you to all the people who were reading my stories, reviewing them, etc. while I was on hiatus. Hope you enjoy the update!_

* * *

Until he'd learned better, he had always tried to take the first bed. It only took him a few years to realize that no matter how fast he ran into the motel, through the door, into the bedroom and sprawled out on the first bed...he wouldn't be there for long.

Dean took the bed closest to the door, he always had.

It took Sam a few years to understand it, but he caught on. It was just another way that Dean tried to protect him. It was 'anything that wants you is gonna have to get through me.'

It felt ironic that the very first time he was sleeping alone (he may have been surrounded by three other boys, but he was alone) he had the bed closest to the door.

"This is your bed." Evan said. "Lights out is at eight, and we're up at six-thirty for breakfast. Make sure you make your bed first."

"Make the bed?" Sam was stunned. Had he made a bed in his life? He wasn't sure he knew how.

A boy on the bed across the room snorted.

"Don't bother with the stupid look." He warned, "Esther won't fall for it. Make the bed, or you'll get it, kid."

Get it? Sam wondered, what was he supposed to get? A spanking? He rolled his eyes, social services was brilliant. They'd taken him and Dean away from the father that hadn't ever as much as laid a hand on them and put him with crazy woman, and Dean...

Sam felt a pang of worry as he remembered once again; he had no idea where Dean was. Or what his new 'family' was like

He considered telling the kid he wouldn't be here long enough to make a bed, but didn't trust him.

"Shove it, Devin." Evan said with an authority that reminded Sam almost painfully of his brother. "Never made a bed, Sam?"

"No. My dad's not exactly Martha Stewart."

Micheal smiled grimly, "Well, you'll learn."

"Hi Sam." A red headed boy who waved halfheartedly from the other side of the room looked up at him. "I'm Martin."

Sam pegged Martin for being about six.

"Martin's pretty new too." Evan said dully. "He's a prison baby."

Sam's eyebrow's furrowed together. What?

Martin explained, not seeming to make much effort at being quiet about it. "He was born when his mom was in prison. She'll be there forever...she's a junkie."

"My dad shot my mom in the head." Devin said with a sort of fake bravado that made Sam a little ill. Why even pretend like that didn't bother you? "So he's in prison."

Everyone looked at him expectantly now, and he wished they hadn't shared because he didn't want to.

"My school made a mistake." He avoided the glances he felt on him. "They thought my dad was hurting us, so now I'm here. He'll sort it out soon though."

Devin laughed. "Yeah, right. So, where's your old lady?"

Sam felt his temper bristle. He was reasonably sure this boy was referring to him mom. Dean would have knocked him through the wall for daring to say such a thing.

"I don't know any." Sam said cooly. "Aside from Esther, and I think she's in the kitchen still if you're looking for her."

Devin laughed again, and Sam decided really quickly he didn't like him. "Yeah, yeah...Esther's gonna set you straight real fast, Sammy-boy."

Sam glared. "Don't call me that."

"Enough, Devin." Evan held up his hand. "Leave Sam alone. It's his first night here."

Evan looked at Sam. "Don't make trouble." Evan advised him, "That's about it."

Evan turned around then, said something to Martin that Sam didn't catch and he settled down on the bed. So, this was hell.

Sam was wishing again that Dean was with him. And he took back all the bad things he'd said about his dad. He really wanted his family back.

–

Dean realized two things just about at once. He wasn't hungry, and so no, he didn't want pizza, Chinese, or Thai food and this poor woman needed a friend, or at least a husband who wasn't cheating on her all over the Continental U.S.

Really! No one-lawyer or not-traveled the way her husband apparently did. Crazy bastard too...once he got over the anger he had directed toward her for being another obstacle to Sam...Well, she was hot. Another time, another place-a time and place where he didn't have to worry about what or who could be harming his brother and he'd be hitting on her with everything he had.

"I'm sorry about your phone." Samantha apologized after placing an order at the pizza place that she said was 'just absolutely amazing!' "I'll try talking to Tina-Marie about it, see if we can swing getting it back. I don't see how it hurts anything. There's nothing you can do with a cell phone that you can't do anyways."

Well, he'd give her that, the woman had logic. What the hell was the point of depriving him of his phone?

"Can I say something?" Samantha turned to look at him. "Please?"

Dean fought the urge to snort. Suddenly she was asking permission? So far she had said a whole lot of somethings. He shrugged, he couldn't exactly stop her, now could he?

"Right..." She made an uncomfortable sound in her throat. "You're so quiet, Dean, I just wanted to tell you that we can be friends...if you want. I know what it's like-"

"You have...no idea what this is like for me." Dean snapped. There was nothing he hated more than condescension like this. "You can't."

Samantha shrugged, looking unaffected by his outburst. Reaching behind her on a stand, she picked up a picture, and handed to him.

"My family." She said. "That's me and my brother with our parents."

Well, if they just weren't the perfect nuclear family. Where were the dog and the white picket fence?

"They died in a car accident when I was twelve. Drunk driver..." She put the picture back. "We didn't have any other family. My brother and I were put in foster care until we were of age."

Fantastic, a sob story. He kept watching the clock, and the minutes seemed to crawl by.

"I'm not hungry." Dean got up from the couch. He had made an effort, he tried to pretend like he could sit there and be...he didn't know what. He was done. He could sulk in the bedroom in peace, contemplate what exactly his plan was if Bobby didn't have anything concrete. "I'm going to bed."

"Okay." Samantha sighed. "Pizza will be in the fridge if you get hungry."

Yeah, whatever. He was supposed to eat? It was hard enough to open his mouth and make words come out in a normal manner. He didn't know how to deal in a situation like this.

What if this was just one of those things his dad couldn't fix? What if he never saw Sam again?

He didn't know what he'd do.

--

Sam waited a long time after 'lights out' and the house to become dead silent before he crept out of bed. The room was dark, and it struck him as a little bit odd that for a room with a six year old there was no night light. That was weird, right? Or maybe Dean was right, and he was a little babyish for needing one in their hotel room until he was nine.

God, he wished Dean was here with him. He knew he said that he wanted his brother to leave him alone, and treat him like an adult. He knew that he said he could take care of himself, and that he could handle whatever was thrown at him.

He was so, so wrong. He had no idea how to handle things without Dean.

Before going downstairs he leaned over the banister, and checked for any movement downstairs, but he didn't hear anything. So good, so far. Sam knew the first thing Dean would do was recon.

Sam jumped a little when he walked past the living room and saw the old man asleep in his chair. Did he move? He just hoped that he was alive. Sam shuddered, if anything could make an angry spirit, he figured it could come from being married to that nasty, crazy old woman.

He was turning into the kitchen when he heard a 'thunk!' sound. Shit! He thought, he'd been so sure everyone was asleep. On the other side of the counter, he found himself face to face with a white faced little girl. She seemed to turn ashen with a look of fear, and he figured he probably scared her half to death. He didn't even know there were girls here, it probably would have been a good idea just to come down to dinner to get a feel from the rest of the kids, instead of sitting in his room bemoaning his situation.

Sam raised a finger to his lips. "Shh." He whispered quietly, when she jumped backwards. He had scared her, not that he was surprised that she was scared in this house. The ratty, rickety old building almost looked like it should be filled with spirits.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He crouched down to her height, which just about had him kneeling. She was tiny...seven, maybe eight years old? "My name's Sam."

"Please don't tell." She whispered, on the edge of tears. "Please don't tell Esther."

"Shh." Sam shook his head, trying to stop her from crying. He got the impression they were dead if they got caught out here, and he didn't want to get on her black list yet. "I'm not telling anyone anything, okay? Don't cry, it's okay. What's your name?"

"Kirsten." She whimpered as Sam turned her away and directed her so that she was sitting against the kitchen island that gave them some cover from anyone who might walk into the kitchen.

As long as he crouched, no one would see them over that.

"Okay, Kirsten," Sam sighed, "Don't cry, okay. I won't tell. I swear."

She nodded her head, and Sam felt himself being a little mesmerized by the big shining blue eyes. He wondered what crappy thing got her exiled here with the rest of them.

"What were you doing?" He asked quietly.

She pointed at the cupboard. "I was hungry. Esther wouldn't let me have dinner because I forgot my homework, and Mrs. Adams called her and told her."

Sam felt a fresh new brimming of anger with these people, what the hell was that? She was a little girl and they weren't feeding her because she forgot her ? He didn't even want to think about what this woman would do to her brother if he was here. Maybe he wouldn't have had to worry about it; Dean would have killed her on the principle of treating the little girl like this.

"It's okay," Sam told her, "Okay, Kirsten?"

He dug through his pockets for his lock picking kit, and crept quietly over the the fridge. It only took a short moment of playing with the lock for it to fall open. He scanned the contents, searching for something simple when he came across some bread, bologna, and American cheese. That would suffice. On the counter he grabbed a couple napkins, and motioned to Kirsten to stay where she was.

Quickly, he complied them, handing one to her and then carefully putting the supplies back where he found them. He locked it back up, making sure that the lock was facing out the way it was before.

Sam hurried back to sit next to her, and she was munching almost half way through her sandwich. As an afterthought, he realized he probably should have made her two.

She swallowed the bite she was working on, and Sam set his sandwich aside. He wasn't especially hungry anyways. There was a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away.

"Thanks Sam." She whispered, and then paused, "I was so afraid you were someone else, Esther would have been really angry if she caught me again."

"Again?" Sam asked, pushing the sandwich closer to her. "I'm not hungry, you can have it."

"Thanks," Kirsten nodded her head, "I forgot to brush my teeth, and so I didn't get to eat anything all day for punishment. Esther reminded me that we don't ever do that, and I was bad to make her look so bad...Devin heard me sneaking out of bed and told on me."

Sam decided he was probably going to end up on her black list a hell of a lot quicker than he expected. He and Devin were going to have a heart to heart tomorrow about how he didn't screw around with little kids. What was he? The snitch? Man, he could only hope he could give it to him half as good as Dean would.

Kirsten wiped her hands off on her pants. "That was really neat, how'd you learn how to do that?"

Sam saw that she pointing at the lock, chewing her sandwich in between the conversation.

"Oh," He shrugged, still trying to process it all. "My brother taught me."

"I have a sister." Kirsten told him, and then she suddenly stopped. "Don't laugh at me, Sam."

He nodded his head, "I promise." He didn't care how silly it was, he wouldn't laugh. There were some things that no matter how silly they seemed to one person were sacred to another.

"Natalie promised me I won't have to stay here forever. She's going to come and get me." Kirsten glanced up at him; he assumed it was to make sure he wasn't laughing at her.

No, he definitely wasn't laughing. He got it; he was waiting, and hoping to god for the same thing.

"Natalie's my big sister." Kirsten added, "She'll take care of me, she's a grown up."

"Maybe we'll get to leave at the same time." Sam told her, "I'll introduce you to my brother. I bet you could talk him into teaching you to pick a lock, too."

She slipped him the first smile he'd seen since the counselor's office. "Or maybe you could teach me."

"Yeah." Sam nodded his head. "I could teach you too."

"We should go." She whispered. "Esther gets up in the middle of the night every night for a treat and a…hot toddie?" Kirsten shrugged, "Whatever that is."

"Right." Sam agreed, wishing he'd had the chance to dig around for some salt. He'd have to wait and do that tomorrow night.

"I'm glad you're here Sam." Kirsten whispered, taking the plates and crushing them far into the bottom of the garbage, then proceeding to cover it up with other garbage. "Yuck." She muttered under her breath.

"You're nice." She said, "You're the first really nice person here-well, except for Martin…"

"What about Evan ?" Sam asked, "Isn't he decent?"

She stiffened at the mention of his name. "Evan 's been here a long time."

Sam didn't ask any more questions, and led her up the stairs. Kirsten had given him a lot to think about. He had figured that there could be a potential ally in Evan , but it looked like he wasn't ready to trust much of anyone yet. Well, aside from Kirsten. He hadn't spent long with her, but he knew enough about his gut to know he should trust his instincts, and every single one of his was telling him he could trust her.

When they reached the top of the stairs, she didn't say anything, only turned in the opposite direction. He stayed there, waiting for her door to click in place, and still didn't move. What was he supposed to do? He was supposed to be escaping, he was supposed to be searching for any weapons he could. He hadn't done anything. All he had was a fresh new wave of confusion, and more problems than he he could figure how to unravel right now.

He'd give anything for some advice from Dean.

Down the hall he heard a break in some one's snoring, and it had him back on track. He'd re-evaluate what he was supposed to do in the morning. If he could get to a phone and talk to Uncle Bobby, it would be so much easier.

_I'm glad you're here, Sam_

One thing was for sure though. He wasn't running away tonight. He was going to get out, he was going to get his family back, and he was going to…well, he didn't know what he was going to do for Kirsten, but he wasn't going to disappear in the night on her.

_Dean_, he crawled into bed thinking of what Dean would want him to do, _Dean would have an idea_…


End file.
